


I'll Show You Mine If...

by RedFive



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Bargaining, Depression, Dry Humping, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, POV First Person, Post-Graduation, Self Confidence Issues, SnowBaz, fang fetish, vampire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-06 06:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6743722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFive/pseuds/RedFive
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet evening at home turns "weeeeird" when Simon gets it into his head that he wants to touch Baz's fangs despite his boyfriend's numerous objections. But you know what they say, "If you can't beat them, join them."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. To Hell With You, Snow

"Come on, let me touch them."

"No."

"Baz," Simon whines sounding like a bleating sheep as he says my name. "We've been dating for almost a year and you've never let me touch them."

"Because it's weird. Not to mention dangerous, you stupid git," I say and pull my head away when he tries to peel back my upper lip.

"It is weird! That's why I want to touch them!" He sounds exasperated like I'm the one being bloody overbearing.

"I'm a vampire, Snow," I say and my voice is ice. "My bite is deadly, and here you are wanting to...wanting to...well I don't really understand your obsession with my teeth."

"Because they're weeeeird," he repeats. He sounds like one of Fiona's vinyl records when it skips. My Aunt Fiona and I are technically flatmates, although I'm rarely home these days, and thank heavens for that. Her weird grunge fetish was annoying when I only dealt with it on holiday. Now, well let's just say that if I ever meet anyone who played for Headswim, I will probably bite and eat them on the spot. Otherwise our living arrangement is pretty brilliant as far as my secrets are concerned. What better place for a vampire to hide than under the roof of the head of the Vampire Taskforce? It is literally the last place anyone would look for something like me.

Simon is drawing another breath to repeat his complaints, and I can't stand another round of them. I just can't. I really will kill him. Swear to Merlin, I will.

"Weird? This from the boy with a fucking tail!" I snap. His tail swishes through the air with intent, which let's me know that he's in one of those moods. He's like a cat that is up to no good.

"And wings," Simon says grinning. 

"Right, wings too. So pardon me, if I find your implication that I am the weird one in this relationship to be somewhat offensive," I say rising from the bed, but Simon grabs my pants by a belt loop, and yanks me back down. He scoots towards my side of the bed and locks his arms around my waist. For a moment, I think about ripping his arms off, but then the bed would smell of blood instead of green things and honey.

I love this bed. I love how it smells. Like Simon. Like food. Granted Simon always smells like food to me, but cooking has become something of a hobby for him since Watford so now he smells like a five course dinner instead of just dessert. He has quite the knack for it too, and it's good to see him creating something with his own hands--no spells required. I shouldn't be surprised by any of this. He loves stuffing his face with food. Why wouldn't he be good at making it too? 

He really should go out more, but he says he's too afraid that the invisibility spells, which keep his wings concealed, will wear off. The problem isn't the spells. My spells are perfect. I didn't become top of our graduating class for nothing, but Simon's confidence in them is shot full of holes now that he can't feel magic anymore. It's a problem without a solution, and for all my magic, I am powerless to help.

He says cooking makes him feel useful while Bunce and I are away at class. I hate that he feels this way, but he won't listen when I tell him how important he is to me. Drives me mental--the not listening part, I mean. Actually, all of it drives me mental. At one time in my life, I was terrifying, but I've become a love-sick pixie since we got together. Burn me, and burn Simon Snow too.

Simon senses that I'm drifting away from his demands and pinches me in the side. "Why are you sensitive about it? It's not like I haven't seen your fangs before. You bare them at me often enough. Shite, you did it yesterday for no good reason."

"You were eating a tuna fish sandwich with blue cheese," I remind him. My stomach churns at the very memory of it. 

"Wasn't that bad," he pouts. I can't actually see his face, but I can hear the dower expression in his voice. It kills my desire to storm off in a huff. I pull his arms away from my waist and swivel to face him. His bottom lip juts out like a diving board. He's so cute when he pouts, like a spring rabbit before I drain it. I lean down and kiss him there. 

"It smelled like a day-old, dead Merwolf," I say.

"You're exaggerating."

"Crowley, Snow, I'm a vampire! Heightened senses, poisonous fangs, dashing good looks--what about any of that do you not understand?"

"That bit at the end for starters," Simon says and pulls me down to the mattress. He lays across my chest, and now I'm definitely not going anywhere.

I sigh. It's a measure of my exhaustion that I didn't see that slap coming. Between ending the war between the old families, Uni, and looking after my clinically depressed boyfriend, there isn't much time for sleep, and I don't need much sleep to begin with. That's just how busy I am these days.

"Simon, I'm serious." I say hoping that calling him by his first name will encourage him to let up. I still don't call him Simon unless it's by accident or for my own nefarious purposes. More fun that way. "I could turn you if I prick your finger, and that's if I don't kill you first."

"We don't know that."

"We don't know that it won't."

"What's the big deal anyway? You promised to turn me eventually."

"After graduation," I remind him, "when I have time to care for you as the...ah, changes take hold."

"Baz," Simon whispers and starts making out with the side of my neck. He's so warm. His lips. His bare chest. The full weight of my exhaustion settles over me, and I'm drifting to sleep when I hear his voice again. "Let me touch them."

"Merlin, Mordred, and Morgana, Snow! I swear if you don't stop this right now, I'll..." I freeze as a thought occurs to me.  
Simon isn't going to stop. He's tenacious and unrelenting; that's just who his is. But that's not who I am. It's in my nature to be cunning and evil, and I think I just figured out how to turn this night to my advantage. 

"I'll let you touch mine if you let me touch yours."

"You mean it?" he says immediately. 

_Simon, you reckless little idiot. I love you._

"Yes," I say before he has time to really think about the semantics of my offer. "But only for three seconds. Not a moment more, and you agree to be hit by as many healing spells as I deem fit. My fangs are toxic, Snow. I may know fuck all about vampires, but I know that much."

"Waste of magic," he mutters. He is much more sensitive to frivolous uses of magic these days, but I don't care this time.

"As many as I deem fit, Snow. No complaining."

"Fine," he grunts, but his melancholy evaporates as swift as a sparrow. "Now come on, Baz. Let me touch them already."

We re-adjust so we are laying face to face besides one another. Simon draps his tail across my legs. I kiss him first, just in case something goes wrong. _Nothing is going to go wrong, you wretch._ But if it does, I want to remember how warm Simon's lips were when he was still alive and human.

"Open your mouth, I want to see them pop," he says.

Did I mention that my boyfriend is a freak? If there is not already a word for this kind of kink then I will invent one and write the book on it. BSSM. Bullshit Simon Sadomasochism. Or maybe _I'm_ the masochist for wanting to put up with this nonsense day in and day out for the rest of eternity. Whatever. I'll make a show of it if it will get him all hot and bothered. I stare at him coolly and them drop my eyes to his neck for added theatrics. I can hear his heart beat faster, and my thirst wells up inside of me. Crowley, now I'm the one getting hot and bothered. _Fucking Snow._ Even when I win, I lose.

So I look away and open my mouth wide. It takes some effort to make my fangs come in slowly like they do in the movies. Normally, they just pop out like they're on springs.

"Wicked." I hear Simon say.

I slide even closer to him. I have one arm beneath his head. My other hand holds my wand, which is pointed at his chest.

"Okay, three seconds," I say muffling the elocution of my words because of my fangs.

Simon lifts a finger and runs it along a canine. I feel him tug at it and see him smile, but I can already see the poison at work. His blue eyes dull and grow distant. Vampires really are fascinating creatures from an evolutionary standpoint. Our saliva contains a substance that serves as both a sedative and poison to control our prey as we feed. I wish I knew what role the poison played in the process of turning a human. In my precious hours of free time, I search every available archive for more information, but we know relatively little about vampires in the magical community. I suppose it is safer and easier just kill us than study us. I pull my fangs back and bombard Simon with a torrent of healing spells.

He keeps his promise and does not complain although his irritation is on full display as he bites his lip to keep himself quiet. 

I exhaust myself in my paranoia, and let my head fall onto the pillow. "Are you okay?" I ask.

"Waste of magic," he grumbles.

"Simon," I whine. Crowley, I really am tired if I'm carrying on like an infant.

"I'm fine, Baz."

"Good," I say as I drift towards sleep. "Can I rest for a moment?"

Simon puts his hand on top of my head and pets me like I'm a bloody housecat. "I have no objection," he says.

I would like to lecture him and reclaim something of my dignity, but I am already asleep.


	2. Slow and Steady Wins for Worst Idea Ever

I wake up just after sunset. (It's a vampire thing.) Simon is fast asleep besides me with an idiotic smile on his face.

"Wake up, Snow," I say and receive no response. So I twist one of his nipples and he's up in a roar.

"Fucking hell, Baz!" Simon sits up and rubs his chest fuming. He's acting like a child about the rude awakening as if I hadn't done much worse at Watford. The Roommate's Anathema may have prohibited us from physically harming each other, but there were no rules about transmuting the feathers in his pillow into pine needles or freezing his bedsheets.

"We made a deal. It's my turn to collect," I grin.

"Now who is being a giant weirdo about teeth," he says and runs a hand through his golden curls, which are gloriously mussed and matted after our nap.

I sit up and lean over to kiss his cheek. "I never said anything about teeth," I say whispering in his ear.

"Then what-," he starts to say, but I cut him off by undoing the top button of his jeans. "Baz?"

"Snow," I say and move my lips down his jaw.

"You sure?

I'm not sure. I'm really, **really** not, but I'm willing to try. As powerful as my thirst is, I ache for the normalcy of a real relationship, but it is a struggle just to be near Simon, and it grows worse everyday. There are at least fifty places I want to bite him. I worry sometimes that this is the only thing holding me back anymore. I'll only get one shot at it when the day finally comes. I only get to drink his blood _once_ before I either kill him or change him. My stomach heaves at the thought but not out of revulsion; this is a hunger pang. I'm hungry, so very hungry. I'm always hungry lately, and there aren't enough rats in all of London to sate it.

"Simon, your pendant, go get it," I rasp. I'm too close to his long, tender neck. It would be so easy, and I know he wouldn't mind if I tossed the whole plan right out the window, but...

I rip myself away from his embrace and retreat to my side of the bed. 

"I don't want to. I always burn you," he says. His concern is sweet, idiotic and sweet, and I love him all the more for it.

I have a nice collection of cross-shape marks on my chest. It's a good thing I heal fast or I wouldn't have much flesh left on me. "Simon, please," I say again. Talk about a waste of magic; it's the third time I've said his first name in as many hours.

He sighs, then stands, and goes to fetch it from the top of his dresser. When we were children, the first appearance of Wellbeloved's pendant had irritated and frightened me because it implied that Simon was aware of my secret and reviled me for it. These days that bloody trinket is my best friend. It won't stop me from killing Simon if I go too far, but it makes me uncomfortable enough to curb my appetite.

The gold cross settles around his throat. Nausea and a familiar sense of wrongness hits me like a brick, but I can at least breathe again. I hold my arm out and beckon him back to bed.

Simon stands just out of reach and slowly wiggles out of his pants.

"Tease," I accuse.

"Take your shirt off," he says.

"That's not part of the deal."

"I don't care. I want to look at you."

One of the advantages of being a vampire is how hard it is for me to blush, which is the only thing I am grateful for, because that remark would have finished me. I untuck my dress shirt and begin unbuttoning.

Simon returns to bed wearing only his boxers as per usual. How boring, right? Our relationship is embarrassingly vanilla because I'm too frightened to let it get out of hand. I've only seen him naked once when we tried to make-out in a cold shower thinking that it might help me with my...difficulties. (It didn't.)

He tries to kiss me, but I push him back.

"No you don't, you vixen. We take this slow. I lead or it'll never work."

Simon leans back on a stack of pillows and and folds his hands across his chest. "Fine. Have it your way."

It's a little awkward. Because of his wings, Simon sits more or less upright in bed rather than laying on his back. When we do start having sex, those wings are going to be a problem. We'll have to be inventive, but that'll be fun. _Crowley, don't think of that right now. Let's see if I can even manage a hand job first._

I straddle his legs, and with both hands pull his boxers over his hips and down to his ankles. Simon kicks them off from there, and they go flying across the room.

I advance moving up his body like a cat stalking its prey. Simon is much too pale from being housebound for so long, but his body is still glorious. He actually has a freckle on his left pelvic bone of all places. It instantly becomes my new favorite. I touch it lightly with my index finger and follow the bone down to his crotch. He gets hard as I watch. I quickly take a firm hold of his cock and feel him lengthen and stiffen in my hand as I run my hand up and down the shaft languidly. This is fine. This slow pace won't get me into trouble, and it's an incredible feeling--like working with clay in reverse.

I wank off all the time. It's a necessity when practicing non-voluntary abstinence with a boyfriend that looks as good as Simon dos, but it is nothing like this. Since I don't know what Simon likes, everything is new and exciting.  
  
Simon flexes his cock then raises his hips, probably annoyed at my speed or lack of, but I don't want this to end too soon.

"That's longer than three seconds," Simon mumbles.

"Is that a complaint? Do you want me to stop?" I threaten mischievously. I loosen my grip, and rub my thumb around his tip like I am weighing my options.

Simon smiles, and I feel his tail smack my ass. "I want you to begin."

I am determined to ignore him and stick to the slow-and-steady plan, but as his breathing gets heavier and his twitching more insistent, I find myself incapable of holding back. I  give-in and respond to his body's subtle suggestions without regard for what is safest. It is uncomfortably constricting in my own pants, and the smell of Simon's precum makes me lightheaded in a concerning way.

"Snow," I whisper, and there is a note of fear in my voice.

"Don't you dare stop, Baz. Don't you dare," he says and his words are steel.

 


	3. Two-way Street, Mate

For a moment, I think it'll be okay. Simon's words give me courage. I take hold of the thirst and push it down into my gut where it belongs. But when Simon moans, my fangs pop. I fling myself out of bed and stumble into the closet, which Simon finds hysterical.

I stay in the closet for a solid two minutes, and don't immediately return to bed.

"You okay?" Simon asks when we have both collected ourselves.

"Yeah," I say and lay down besides him. "But I'm done for the evening."

Simon blinks, confused. He looks down at his erection then into my eyes. "You must be joking."

It's my turn to laugh. "Afraid not, _buttercup_."

"You're such a fucking arsehole, Baz!" he says and throws a pillow at me. I wonder if he's more upset about the cease-fire or the nickname. "I bet vampires don't even get blue balls."

Crowley, if only that were true. Now would the perfect time to hit him with a _'what goes around comes around'_ after the years of torture I endured at school, but any mention of Watford has a 50/50 chance of dredging up Simon's demons, and this bed isn't big enough for all of us.

"Finish up yourself. I want to watch," I say and lean over to kiss a freckle on his shoulder.

"Who's being the weird one now?"

I pick at the stitching of the green quilt, which we are laying on. I need an activity for my hands to deal with the energy still humming inside me. "I want to understand what you like. It won't always be like this," I remind him while calculating how many credits I still need to graduate. "When that day comes, I want to make you happy."

Simon snorts, and he has every right to. That speech was pathetic. _Ugh, I'm ruined._ This is what love does to the brain.

"You already make me happy." He says and rolls onto his side removing the pressure from his wings. He touches himself and takes over where I left off.

I lay my hand on his cheek and run my thumb across his bottom lip. He bites my finger.

"Then I've changed my mind. When the day comes, I want to make you sigh and your chest heave. I want to make you claw at my back and beg for more because you've never felt better. I want to hear you scream, Snow."

"Hah, you would," he laughs thinking I'm making another joke about my proclivity towards villainy.

"I'm serious. I want to know. _Show me what you like._ "

"Two-way street, mate. Shake one out. This feels..."

"Weird?" I grin, but I don't protest. Vampires can indeed get blue balls and I am feeling very uncomfortable right now. I unzip and pull my cock out of my trousers. We're supposed to be studying each other, but I keep glancing at Simon's face. His breath jumps every time my body twitches. I never would have guessed it would be so erotic watching him watch me. The feeling seems mutual. Simon catches me peeking, and I look away. Later, I catch him and the cycle repeats itself.

"Baz," he says and leans his head towards me. The acidic smell of his gold cross grows stronger, which is probably for the best. The room smells too much like sex already and it's giving me ideas I can't act on.

"Not now, Snow," I plead. I need to focus on not eating him. I know Simon well enough to know that whatever he's plotting will make that a whole lot harder to accomplish.

"Come here," he insists. His lips part searching for mine.

Simon's lips are the best. They are soft and firm like the flesh of a peach, and I can't resist them when he looks at me like that. We kiss, them kiss again, and each time Simon's kisses get stronger--or maybe my kisses are getting stronger.

I would put a stop to it, but I can tell by the measure of his heartbeat that it won't be necessary. Simon makes a noise and I feel something slick and warm on my abdomen. I collect what I can in my hands and lick my fingers clean. Like blood, semen contains life. Not as much as blood, but enough to make a nice snack.

"Does that taste good?"

I nod, but don't offer him any. "You should try it sometime."

It's a mistake. I realize it the minute the words slip past my lips.

Simon lifts his chin boldly and sets his shoulders like he is about to charge into battle. He pounces and plops down onto my legs pinning me to the bed. I try and throw him off, but he beats his large wings in reverse, which gives him enough power to overcome my superhuman strength. "Well matched indeed," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Get off, Snow. We're done for the evening."

Simon laughs and looks down at my crotch. "That's not what it looks like from up here."

"Crowley, Snow. What do you want from me?"

"I want you to be very still. And try not to bite me, will you?" He reaches for me, and I tremble.

He runs a hand down my abdomen staring at me strangely. His face wears an emotion I understand well, but I'm used to seeing it in the mirror. Simon looks as hungry as I am. "God, you're beautiful, Baz."

"Shut it," I say. I don't have any blood to spare for blushing.

Simon smiles like a toad. "As you wish," he says and adjusts so he is sitting on my legs below my knees. He bends down, and I feel his lips brush my cock.

I try to throw him off, again, but there is more flapping before my dick finds its way into his mouth.

"Merlin, Morgana, and Mordred!" I gasp. I hope Bunce is not home yet from Uni skulking about the common area where she can hear everything.

I feel Simon chuckle, damn him. When he laughs with my cock down his throat, it electrifies my entire body.

My fangs pop. I gnash my teeth at the air desperate to sink my fangs into something.

Simon takes me even deeper and sucks at me hard.

I moan and press my hips into his mouth. I'm so close to one of two outcomes. In the next few minutes, I am either going to kill him or float away.

Suddenly he pulls back. "Baz," he says and I hear a question on his tongue.

"No. Whatever asinine thought is rolling around that empty skull of yours, you stick a pin in it this instant," I growl and raise myself up onto my elbows so I can glare at him properly.

He squeezes my leg and lowers his head again, but only nuzzles my inner thigh.

My head rolls backwards. A pained and pleasured sigh passes over my lips.

"Snow, please," I ask more politely. "I'm begging you. I-I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't," he says whispering so softly that only a vampire could hear.

"I might. You don't know what I'm thinking."

"I would if you told me," he says.

"No. It's dangerous." But beyond that, I don't want him to fear me.

He plants a soft kiss at the base of my cock and reaches a hand under me to palm my testicles through the fabric of my trousers.

"When we do it for the first time, how do you imagine it?" he asks refusing to be deterred. His words flick across my skin like a hot lash. I fall onto my back shuddering.

I think about trolls, and exams, and bleu-cheese sandwiches as I say my next words. "With you on top, fucking me till I scream," I tell him.

He stops again. "Me?"

"Who else would it be?" I say impatiently.

"No, I just...I didn't think you'd want me on top the first time."

"Idiot. Of course I want you on top. I've wanted you inside me since I knew I wanted you. It's one of the reasons I want to drain you dry so badly. There is too much skin and bone between us. Too much of everything." I ache all over for him and wish he'd stop talking already and take me inside his mouth.

Simon nods with understanding. "Do you want, me Baz? Right now?"

"YES!" I say raising my voice until I'm nearly shouting. I have never wanted anything more, but a carillon of alarm bells ring out before I can ask for it. "No, no. I mean no. Not now. Please, don't. I don't want to hurt you," I beg and there are tears in my eyes.

"Shhh," Simon coos in a comforting voice. "It's alright. It's alright, Baz. I won't do _that_ , not if you don't want me to. You're in control. You're not going to hurt me, love. You're stronger than that. You're in control, Baz. You hear me?"

I stare at him in shock, horror, and adoration. Did he just call me...? No, I can't think about that now. I'm thinking about too much already--particularly about how nice and meaty his long neck looks.

Simon moves up my body and places one knee between my legs. His hands rest on either side of my chest. He holds himself aloft far away from my teeth. It's how I picture him in my fantasies, strong and fearless.

"Tell me that you want me, Baz, even though it can't be today. Let me hear it from your voice."

"I want you, you bloody idiot," I snap. "Crowley, that should be perfectly obvious."

Simon laughs, but he sounds different from normal. His laugh is less merry, more mischievous, and lower in tone. "Don't be difficult," he says grinding his bare leg into me.

I moan again and move against the motion of his hips.

"Do you want me, Baz?" He says, more insistent this time.

"I want you. I want you, Snow."

"Simon," he corrects. "Please, just say my name."

I grab his arms, and hold him, white-knuckled, considering pulling him to my chest and sinking my teeth into him. "I want you, Simon."

Simon makes a pleased sound in his throat and smiles at me radiantly.

I'm nearly finished. He knows it as well as I do. I can feel it in the way he looks at me; the way he rubs against me; and the way he sighs. "Think about how you want me," he says longingly. "Picture how it'll be; how it'll feel; and know that you can never hurt me. Baz, I love you."

I don't miss it a second time, and I let his words roll around in my head greedily. As I close my eyes, I picture him saying it to me on the day we are finally together--my legs thrown over his hips as he thrusts into me. I dig my fingers into his firm arms, and arch my back as I climax. He'll bruise, but I can't worry about that. I'll shake apart if I let him go.

When it's over, Simon relents. With his weight no longer pinning me to the mattress, I bolt upright and push him off me. He doesn't resist and nearly falls out of bed.

I don't look back to make sure he's okay. If I linger any longer, he probably won't be.

I kick open the bedroom door as I tuck myself back into my trousers. Bunce is in the living room.

She is laying on the couch with a book in her lap. There is a large mug raised to her lips, which she isn't moving. I can tell from the shine in her eyes that she is hiding behind it.

"Not a word," I warn and my voice drips with venom and heat.

Slowly she lowers the mug revealing a large, toothy grin. She purses her lips and makes a zipper motion across her mouth.

My keys are on the coffee table in front of her. I lunge for them and then race for the door. I need to hunt before I go mad or worse, but before I can leave, Simon calls to me.

"BAZ!" he shouts sounding so commanding and purposeful that I freeze in my tracks without a second thought. When did he learn to do that?

I turn around. Simon is standing in the doorway as naked as the day he was born. "Shirt," he says and tosses me one of _his_ T-shirts. I look down at my bare chest, mystified that I nearly left in such a state of undress.

The scene is more than Bunce can take. Her laugh is like a hundred tiny needles pricking at my skin. As I pull the shirt over my head, I hear her fall onto the floor in hysterics.

"I will eat you and your little boyfriend if you ever bring this up," I growl at her from to front door. "Swear to Merlin I will."

"Worth it!" she cackles. 

"Hurry back, Baz," Simon calls to me.

I slam the door behind me without acknowledging him, and take the stairs down to the ground floor three at a time.

When I am a safe enough distance away, I pause to congratulate myself. We did it. We actually managed something normal...well, as normal as it gets for us. But I'll process it all later. It's past time I gave in to my hunger and let myself feel like the predator I am.

Rats of London, fear me. For tonight, I have cause to celebrate, and I intend to eat well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> All done! Hope you enjoyed!

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love any feedback y'all have since this is the first time I've written in the 1st person present tense in....yup, ten years. Christ. Where does the time go? Anyway, enjoy!


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